


Trope Bingo Fills

by raedear



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Each chapter is an individual story, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Neighbours, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation, Soulmates, do not copy to another site, see individual stories for warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raedear/pseuds/raedear
Summary: A collection of fills for Trope Bingo
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 37
Kudos: 65





	1. O5 - Break up make up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm playing trope bingo on twitter! Here are some fills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This first one is kind of cheating, as it was already mostly written and just needed finishing off.) 
> 
> First chapter prompt: 'We broke up before but for some reason we are in contact again and my stupid heart still loves you'  
> Prompted by Ace
> 
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: post-break up, anxiety, misunderstandings, miscommunication.

2 am wasn't exactly the most socially acceptable time to go to the 24 hour mini-market, but it should have been the safest. No one should have been there to witness Yuuri buying a shameful amount of biscuits and crisps to stress eat on his bed. No one should have seen him slobbing around in an old jumper and leggings. He should've been safe. 

'Yuuri?'

He was not safe. Of all the people he could have met, all the voices that could have said his name, it had to be _him_. 

'Yuuri, is that you?' 

No sense avoiding him forever, he clearly recognised him. 

'Hi, Viktor.'

Of course Viktor looked as gorgeous as ever, Yuuri found as he turned to look at him. Elegant in his favourite tan trenchcoat, a bottle of wine dangling insouciantly from one hand. He was looking at Yuuri with wide eyes, disbelief in the tilt of his mouth. Obviously, he hadn't expected his ex to be there looking like a bridge troll while he was just trying to buy some wine. 

Viktor's other hand came up in a strange abortive motion, as though he had been reaching for Yuuri. Yuuri looked down at his front, wondering if he had dog hairs on his jumper - his _jumper_ , oh no. 

'That's mine.' Viktor's eyes were fixed on Yuuri's chest. His hand tightened around the neck of the bottle. 'I looked everywhere for it, after you left,' he looked sharply at Yuuri's face. 'But you took it. Why?' 

Yuuri fumbled with his basket, one hand coming up to clench in the fabric over his collarbones. He loved this jumper. He always had. It was perfectly soft, just the right shade of heather grey, fit over his hands, and it had always smelled of Viktor. He used to wear it to walk Makkachin and Vicchan at night, and then around the apartment. He only took it off to sleep, when he'd pass it to Yuuri with a kiss. 

Yuuri shook his head, still clutching at the jumper. He couldn't meet Viktor's eyes. He heard Viktor make a scoffing noise, and then the dull clunk of a bottle being set down, before Viktor's hand was on his own, tugging the handle of the shopping basket out of his grip. 

'You don't get to walk out of my life with no explanation, and then turn up a month later _in my jumper_ , looking like you were the one who was left.'

Yuuri looked up, watching in mute horror as Viktor considered the contents of Yuuri's basket. He didn't consider them for long. 

'You can live without this stuff until tomorrow. Come with me.' He didn't wait for a response before he dumped the basket on the floor and grabbed Yuuri's wrist, pulling him along out of the store. Yuuri looked helplessly over his shoulder at the abandoned basket of junk food. Viktor hated people who left things in the wrong place in shops (' _Think of the poor overworked retail staff Yuuri!'_ ) he thought they were rude and didn't deserve discount junk food in the first place. What did it mean that he'd do it himself now? Had he changed so much in a month? 

So lost in considering all the ways he'd clearly destroyed Viktor's life and personality with his presence, Yuuri was surprised when Viktor came to a sudden stop, whipping around with one hand held open towards Yuuri expectantly.

Yuuri stared at it. Viktor gave a huff of breath and shook his open palm more insistently. 

'Keys, Yuuri. Please.' 

Oh.

Somehow, without Yuuri really noticing, they had reached his apartment building. He couldn't believe Viktor had remembered. He very rarely brought him here while they were dating, both of them preferring Viktor's loft. He placed his keys in Viktor's hand, and wondered why Viktor's hand seemed to be shaking. It wasn't that cold.

Viktor dragged him up the stairs and into his apartment without another word. He pointed sharply at the couch, and spun on his heel to march towards the kitchen, shedding his coat as he went. Yuuri sat. Vicchan nosed curiously at Yuuri's feet, and he scooped him up. He could hear Viktor puttering about; the click of the kettle turning on, the sound of mugs being moved around. 

Yuuri stayed where he'd been put, lost and confused. Vicchan whined under his hand, and he stroked his warm little back, matching his breathing to the rhythm as best he could. 

Viktor came out of the kitchen. He clicked his tongue at the sight of Yuuri, and crossed the room to press a mug into the hand not petting Vicchan. Yuuri looked at it, feeling far away. 

It was the mug Viktor had got him the second time he'd stayed at his loft. He'd taken it with him when he left that last time, but he hadn't had the courage to use it since. It was the perfect mug. Soft pink, lightly textured ceramic, it fit exactly in his hand and held just the right amount of tea. Steam curled up, faint in the dim light. Viktor had made him hojicha, like he had every time Yuuri's anxiety had gotten the better of him. 

Viktor sat heavily into the armchair across from Yuuri, and looked at him from beneath his fringe, his brows drawn low. 

'You owe me an explanation, Yuuri.'

Yuuri flinched, and his hand tightened a little around Vicchan. Vicchan gave a squeak of displeasure and jumped off his lap, running over to Viktor to say hello. 

Yuuri held the mug between his hands and considered his knees. 

'Yuuri,' Viktor's voice was soft, but flat. Yuuri had never heard him like this. 'Yuuri, please talk to me. Please explain. This isn't fair.'

Yuuri nodded, eyes still on his knees. Minutes passed in silence, words thick in his throat. Viktor sighed across the room. 

'"Let's end this. We both know it's going to happen. If we do it now, it won't hurt as much."' Viktor wasn't being cruel, but there was a tone in his voice as he repeated Yuuri's last words to him that Yuuri didn't like. He looked up, but Viktor was looking across the room. He turned his head, and Yuuri met his eyes for all of a second before he had to look away again. Something burned in his blue eyes, something painful. 'Why don't you explain what I _knew_ , Yuuri? I thought we were happy.'

Yuuri flinched again, and watched the surface of his tea slosh against the mug. Every minute since he had left Viktor's apartment had seemed endless, but this was the worst of them all. 

'I- I just meant,' The words were choking him. From the edge of his vision he saw Viktor lean forward, intent on his every stumble. 'I knew, I saw-' He broke off completely, bringing the mug to his lips. After the first time Viktor saw him have a panic attack, after panicking himself and fighting with Yuuri over something dumb, Viktor had always known just how to calm him down. He had researched it endlessly, got it down to a fine art. The tea helped a little, as it always did, soothing the stuck feeling in his throat. 

'You saw?'

Yuuri glanced up. Viktor's eyes were fixed on his face; he hardly seemed to breathe. One hand was down at his ankles, scratching at Vicchan's ears, but he made no move to pick him up. Yuuri took a deep breath, and gathered himself. 

'I saw your notes, around the apartment. I didn't mean to, but they were everywhere. And you, you always-' He stopped again, looking desperately at Viktor for help, for absolution, for _something_. 

'I always _what,_ Yuuri?' Viktor's face was intent, his whole body reaching forward. Something in Yuuri broke, some plateau of anxiety shattering beneath him. 

'You always talked to me about your notes, before you even made them, even before we were dating. I knew every word of your books, of your stories, before you wrote them down. And then suddenly there were notes about love everywhere that you kept hiding from me. And I knew. They weren't for me, and that was fine,' He looked at his knees again, unable to bear the confirmation of his words in Viktor's face. 'I knew you'd found someone you wanted to share those words with and, and that was fine too. But I- I also knew-' There was that choking again. 

'Knew _what,_ Yuuri?' Viktor's voice sounded wretched all of a sudden, like it was being pulled from his chest. Yuuri looked at him, surprised to hear him like that. He was pale, his eyes red-rimmed in the dim light. 

'Knew that you'd stay with me anyway, even though it wasn't what you wanted.'

Viktor sat back, looking like he'd been struck. 

' _What?_ '

Yuuri was missing something, clearly. Viktor looked horrified. 

'Vit- nn. Viktor,' if he hadn't been watching so closely, he never would've noticed the muscle in Viktor's cheek jump at his fumble. 'Viktor, it's okay. I saw the notes, I saw you on your phone all the time. It's okay that you found someone else.'

It wasn't. Still, to this second, it felt like his heart was being torn out. 

'You... You didn't trust me?' Viktor sounded near tears. 

'No!' Yuuri burst out, he knew he was yelling, but he couldn't help it. 'No, of course I trusted you! But I know you. You'd hurt yourself before you ever hurt me. I couldn't let you.' His voice was quiet as he finished speaking, the room hushed around them. 

'Yuuri,' Viktor was crying. Silently, beautifully. Every tear catching the light like a precious gem. 'Yuuri, no, you don't understand.' His voice was thick.

It was horrible, he knew that, but Yuuri had always thought Viktor was stunning when he cried. 

'Understand what?'

Viktor stood suddenly, displacing Vicchan from beside his feet. 

'Anything! Clearly!' He scraped his hands roughly over his face, through his hair, looking at Yuuri with wild eyes. 'Every word of those notes was for _you_ , Yuuri! Every fucking text was someone else telling me it was too soon to tell you how much I love you, how much I wanted you to live with me, how much I wanted to _marry you_. Every message was someone else saying I was being too much, I was going to scare you away, and then I _did_!'

The bottom dropped out of the world. 

'You... What? What are you talking about?' Yuuri's voice came from somewhere far away. Viktor paced in front of him, his hands still twisted in his hair. 

'I was too much too soon, and you left. I'm always too much. I want too much too soon. Everyone leaves.' He sat down again, slowly, like his strength had been stolen from him. His hands dangled between his knees, and Yuuri couldn't look away from the vulnerable arch of his wrist, the fall of his fingers.

'What are you talking about?'

Viktor sniffled a little, his voice was wet when he spoke again. 'I went too fast, and I scared you. And you left. I just want to know exactly what I did so I can avoid it in the future. Was it giving you a drawer the first night you stayed? Meeting Yura and Yakov so soon? Talking about the future? Please tell me Yuuri. Please.'

Nothing made sense. 

'No, no I- I loved all of those things. I loved them. You never said anything to me about love. I thought you loved someone else.' 

Didn't he? Yuuri had seen the notes, the half-written poems; had heard Viktor's phone buzz for hours on end. It made perfect sense at the time.

Viktor shook his head, misery in every line of his body. 

'I only ever loved you.'

Everything about this was wrong. 

'But you...' Yuuri took a deep breath, feeling tears catch in his chest as he did. 'You didn't _say_ anything. You didn't ask me to stay. You just watched me pack. You didn't do _anything_.' His voice broke painfully, cracking across the room like footsteps over weak ice. Viktor didn't move. 

'In my experience, asking people to stay never goes the way I want it to.' He sounded broken. Like something fundamental inside him had been beaten down completely. 

Yuuri gasped, shuddering and painful, and he was on his feet before he knew it, crossing the room to clutch at Viktor's hand, his mug discarded somewhere along the way. 

'Viktor you were _never_ too much. Not _ever_. I wasn't enough for you. I... thought...' He broke off on a hiccough, struggling to catch his breath. Viktor's hand came up to cup his cheek, the other still tight in Yuuri's grip. 

'Thought what, Yuuri?'

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut tight, and pressed his cheek into Viktor's hand. 

'I thought I loved you more than you loved me.'

Viktor pushed himself off the chair, letting go of Yuuri just long enough to wrap himself around him, arms tight around his waist and shoulders. 

'I love you _so much_ , Yuuri. I was so afraid of chasing you away that I let other people tell me how much I should show you. I should've told you every day. I never should have let you leave.' 

Yuuri trembled in Viktor's embrace, his own hands clutching at Viktor's shirt between his shoulders. He shook his head, pressing his face into Viktor's neck. 

'I should've talked to you. I shouldn't have just decided for us, I'm _sorry_ , Vitya. I'm so sorry.' He was crying in earnest now, and he could feel Viktor crying too. Viktor stroked his hair, and held him close.

‘I’m sorry Yuuri. I did everything backwards. I made you feel unloved when I was so scared of loving you too much and frightening you.’ 

Yuuri gasped against Viktor’s neck.

‘This is the _stupidest break up ever,_ ’ he wailed, starting to laugh through his tears. Viktor laughed too, rocking him from side to side gently as he held him. 

They sat together until their tears dried. Yuuri thought he could stay like that, his nose pressed against Viktor’s neck, Viktor’s hand in his hair, quite contentedly for the rest of his life. Without speaking, Viktor hooked his elbow under Yuuri’s knees and adjusted them so Yuuri was sat on his lap. Vicchan draped himself across Viktor’s ankles when he stretched his legs out across the carpet. 

‘I missed you so much, Yuuri,’ Viktor whispered into his hair, squeezing him tighter as he spoke. ‘I thought I was going to have to miss you forever.’ 

'I missed you too,' said Yuuri quietly against Viktor's throat. 'I wore your jumper every night we were apart. I'm sorry I stole it.'

Viktor gave a weak chuckle and rocked Yuuri in his arms. 'I was only in that shop tonight because I knew they carried the wine you like. Chris set me up on a date. I couldn't go. I just walked around all night.' 

'Your apartment is on the other side of town, Vitya.' Yuuri smiled as he spoke, and felt Viktor press a kiss to the top of his head.

'Details Yuuri, minor details.'

They settled into silence, breathing together in the quiet. Like the moment after a headache lifts, the aches of the past month left Yuuri more with every gentle touch; every soft sigh.

'We still have a lot to talk about darling,' said Viktor without lifting his face from Yuuri's hair. 'But not tonight, I think.'

'No, not tonight.' Yuuri kissed Viktor's collarbone, where it sat bare and dear near his lips.

'Bed? And then in the morning we can go collect Makkachin, and talk over breakfast?' 

Yuuri lifted his head slowly, giving Viktor time to move back. He was smiling terribly softly when Yuuri met his eyes again.

'That sounds great,' said Yuuri, before he leaned in and kissed him.


	2. I1 - hey neighbour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter prompt: 'Hello extremely cute person living across the hall/next door'  
> Prompted by Sean
> 
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: Drunk character

Yuuri wasn’t a particularly violent person, but he could have cheerfully throttled whomever was clattering at his door at four in the morning. Too tired to even be concerned about who might be on the other side, he yanked the door open with as solid a glare as he could muster on two hours’ sleep. 

‘Cute neighbour!’ His neighbour from across the hall yelled in his face as the door opened, and Yuuri reared back from the smell of rum and his proximity both. His neighbour was slumped in the doorway, barely holding himself upright. To Yuuri’s twin shame and irritation, he wasn’t any less beautiful, even when clearly drunk out of his mind. His eyes were just as blue, his hair was just as pretty. It truly wasn’t fair. 

‘Are you okay?’ asked Yuuri, reaching out to steady him when he wobbled. 

‘I’m great!’ cried his neighbour, smiling brightly up at him. ‘I’m great I’m great I’m great, cute neighbour is here!’ 

Yuuri felt his cheeks grow hot, and forcibly reminded himself that the other man was drunk, and clearly didn’t know who he was talking to.

‘Let’s get you home, and you can sleep this off, okay?’ His neighbour nodded vigorously enough to over-balance himself, and Yuuri barely caught him round the waist before he toppled over. 

‘I have a secret,’ said Yuuri’s neighbour, giving every appearance of whispering aside from achieving a volume less than normal conversation. ‘A very important secret, you can’t tell anyone.’ 

‘Maybe you shouldn’t tell me,’ said Yuuri, as reasonably as he could with 6 feet of strange attractive Russian man draped over him. 

‘That’s a great point, a very good point, very smart,’ said his neighbour, nodding enthusiastically. There was less than twenty feet between his door and Yuuri’s, but somehow it seemed to take an age to get there. ‘A very great point, but I think you’ll be good at secrets and Chris doesn’t think this counts, but I know you will! Are you ready?’ 

‘No,’ wheezed Yuuri, as his neighbour wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed tight. 

‘I have a crush! A crush on my cute neighbour! I don’t know his name, but he wears the cutest blue glasses, and he looks really hot when he goes running. Do you know his name?’ Yuuri’s neighbour pouted impressively pathetically at him as Yuuri propped him up against his own door frame and rang the bell. Yuuri studiously avoided looking at him, vaguely afraid he would somehow burn him with the strength of his blush. 

Thankfully for both of them, it was less than a minute before the door opened. The man on the other side’s expression moved very quickly from annoyed to concerned to relieved as he spotted his flatmate slumped against the door frame. 

‘Chris!’ cheered Yuuri’s drunken neighbour, pitching forward to wrap his friend in a hug. ‘I told you my crush was a great secret, cute neighbour agrees!’ 

Chris looked up at Yuuri, smirking as he hitched his friend higher up in his arms. ‘Is that so?’ he asked, looking him up and down.

Yuuri felt his face grow even hotter, and he gaped at them both 

‘Chris,’ slurred the drunk man. ‘Chris, we need to learn cute neighbour’s name. It’s- it’s important. Very important. How can I marry him if I don’t know his name?’ 

‘Does he know your name?’ asked Chris, far too reasonably for the shit-eating grin on his face. His friend gave an expression of acute horror, and tried to stand up straighter. Chris caught him as he overbalanced. Yuuri watched them in mute disbelief. 

‘He must! You have to make sure he does, Chris promise me! My name is Viktor!’ Chris clapped his hand over Viktor’s mouth as his already loud voice turned to shouting, as though he was determined to tell the entire floor his name.

‘I think cute neighbour heard you. I’m sure he knows your name now.’ Chris was very clearly trying not to laugh as he looked at Yuuri. Viktor nodded, content and sleepy all of a sudden. 

Yuuri cleared his throat, although only Chris looked at him. Viktor looked seconds from falling asleep. 

‘If… If he wants to know. In the morning I mean-’ Yuuri paused to cough again, gathering his courage. ‘My name is Yuuri, and I- I think he’s cute too.’ 

Chris grinned at him, his smile going from cheeky to sweet in a heartbeat. ‘I’ll be sure to let him know, Yuuri. Maybe you’ll have another visit from him tomorrow, and at a more reasonable hour.’

Viktor gave a soft snore, his nose pressed unattractively against Chris’ collarbone. Yuuri still thought he was cute. 


	3. I4 - you don't hold hands with your bros?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter prompt: 'Why do people think we're dating? Are we dating???'  
> Prompted by Chel
> 
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: no warnings

'The barista gave us couples cookies again,' said Viktor, frowning as he sat down at their table. Yuuri frowned in return, settling in his seat so his knees knocked against Viktor's. 

'How do you know they're couples cookies? They could just be ones that were getting a little old?' he asked, hopelessly.

Viktor held the cookies up so Yuuri could see them. In cheerful bright pink icing one read 'True' and the other read 'Love'. They looked like candy hearts. Yuuri mutely took the 'love' cookie, and nibbled on the edge without meeting Viktor's eye, absolutely certain that if he did then neither of them would be able to keep from laughing.

'We should definitely tell them we're not a couple,' said Viktor quietly. 'It's unfair for us to get free treats.'

Yuuri rolled his eyes affectionately. 'They never believe us when we do though. Remember dinner last week? They gave us all those pamphlets they'd printed off about "accepting yourself"?'

Viktor nodded, crumbling his biscuit into smaller and smaller pieces on the plate. Yuuri reached out and laid a hand over his until he stopped.

'Why do you think it keeps happening Yuuri?' Viktor's voice was small and strange, and Yuuri gripped his hand tighter in concern.

'I don't know Vitya, we're close and people make presumptions…' Yuuri trailed off, unsure himself of the answer. A worry struck him. 'Does it… Does it upset you?'

Viktor's gaze snapped up to meet Yuuri's, naked concern on his face. 

'No, Yuuri, that's not it at all,' he held Yuuri's hand against his chest. 'You're my best friend Yuuri, I love you. Of course it doesn't upset me. I just-' he broke off again, looking somewhere vaguely over Yuuri's shoulder, biting at his lip. 

'Vitya?'

'Maybe we should try it. What do you think, Yuuri?'

Yuuri leaned back, confused and not a little lost. 

'Try what?'

Viktor smiled at him, and leaned in close. Yuuri couldn't necessarily forget that his best friend was one of the most beautiful people in the world, but sometimes the light caught him just right, and he was reminded anew.

'Try being together. What if everyone else has a point, and we've just been blind?' 

'What… What do you mean?' Yuuri couldn't explain why he felt the need to whisper. Viktor leaned in closer still, until their faces were only inches apart above the table. 

'What's the worst that could happen?' whispered Viktor in return. 'You'll always be my best friend. But maybe everyone else has a point. Maybe we could be more.'

Yuuri found himself watching Viktor's lips as he spoke. 

'Can I kiss you, Yuuri?' Viktor was close enough that Yuuri felt his breath brush against his lips. He searched Viktor's eyes for any sign that he was kidding, and found only patience and excitement. Barely conscious of doing so, he nodded, and looked again at Viktor's lips. He smiled before he leaned in closer, and pressed a soft kiss to Yuuri's mouth.

It was like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Yuuri's eyes fluttered shut, and he kissed Viktor back, raising his free hand to cup his jaw. Viktor's own hand had already found its way into Yuuri's hair. After an endless moment learning the taste of each other, they broke apart, only far enough to rest their foreheads together.

'See Matt, I told you they were a couple,' a voice trying very hard to be quiet, but not quite reaching it broke their concentration. 'They deserved the couples cookies!' 

'Yes, I can see they're together, but my point is you're supposed to charge them for the cookies, not give them away for free to any couple you think is cute.'

Yuuri opened his eyes again, still slightly struck dumb by the last few minutes. Viktor did the same, and they managed almost a full five seconds looking at each other before they burst out laughing. Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuuri, and they giggled together as the poor barista tried to defend their promotional biscuit choices.


	4. B1 - Soulmates shmoulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth chapter prompt: 'Oh my god they were soulmates'  
> Prompted by Lini
> 
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: angst, anxiety

In any fair universe, Viktor and Yuuri would be soulmates. They loved each other so quickly and so deeply, it was only natural that they'd share a soul. Maybe that's why it was so much more jarring than it should have been every time someone gave them a pitying glance or a whispered condolence. They didn't pity themselves, why should anyone else? 

Yes, sometimes Viktor mourned the lack of a shared mark with Yuuri, but it was better to have no mark at all and have him than it would be to have a mark and have someone else. There was no one in the world who could complete him the way Yuuri did, and the universe knew it so well that it didn't even need to point it out to them. That's what Viktor believed. Sometimes he saw the longing in Yuuri's face when their friends met their soulmates and showed off their matching marks, but he knew in his heart that Yuuri felt the same. 

It wasn't exactly polite to ask someone about their marks, but it was so common to show them off that everyone knew, at least obliquely, that Yuuri and Viktor were bare. He had grown used to the shock in their faces as they figured it out, the disbelief in some cases. It didn't matter though, not really. Not when he woke up every morning to Yuuri in his arms; not when he was the person Yuuri reached for when he was happy or sad or anything in between.

So life went on. They moved in together, they got married, they lived and loved together in a state of bliss that confused everyone around them (secretly that is, no one would dare say anything to their faces, but they knew). What did soulmates matter?

Then came the day that Viktor's preferred hairdresser retired. Yuuri, bless him, tried very hard to keep his face straight as Viktor fretted at him about the challenges of finding a reliable new person to cut his hair. Yes, admittedly he'd had the same haircut since he was 19, but it suited him. He didn't want someone messing up a good thing. Yuuri sent him off at the door with a kiss and a reminder to be patient. 

The new hairdresser worked out of the old hairdresser's shop, so Viktor was hopeful that before she retired his old hairdresser had given him some pointers about how Viktor preferred his hair to be cut and clipped. From the starstruck look on the young man's face, possibly she didn't. Still, Viktor sat patiently, as Yuuri asked him to, and watched the young man carefully decide which setting to use on his clippers.

The moment he touched them to Viktor's scalp, he started to talk. He rambled about a date he'd gone on the previous weekend, where he was planning on going on holiday the next; on and on he went, and Viktor felt his eyes glaze over slightly at the flood of information.

Until a strange 'oh' broke through. Then his eyes snapped to the hairdresser's in the mirror. He was looking closely at Viktor's scalp, leaning forward slightly for a better look. 

'What is it?' asked Viktor, trying hard not to let worry creep into his tone. 

'Why would you get a tattoo on your scalp, just to let your hair grow back?' asked the hairdresser, still peering at Viktor's head.

'What are you talking about? I don't have a tattoo?' Viktor was very concerned now. 

Without saying anything else, the hairdresser picked up a small mirror and angled it so Viktor could see the back of his own head in the larger mirror in front of him. He had cut too high and too close at the point where Viktor's skull met his neck, and he was right. There was something there. He couldn't quite see with the mirror, so he passed the hairdresser his phone to take a close up picture. They peered at it together.

In silver, only a shade or so darker than his own hair, was very clearly the edge of what looked like a snowflake. It was large, large enough that only a little of the shape was visible in the small section the hairdresser had cut so far. From the looks of it, it spanned the majority of Viktor's scalp. Viktor felt curiously far away from the experience. The hairdresser made as though to keep going, but he shook his head. 

Viktor found himself in front of his own front door what felt like a blink later. He wasn't wearing the hairdresser's smock anymore, and his wallet was in his hand, so he presumed he'd paid and left politely, but he wasn't sure. He had to see Yuuri. That was all that mattered. 

Yuuri was singing in the kitchen when Viktor walked in, just quietly over the sound of him washing dishes. Somehow this was worse than anything that had come before, this single moment of not knowing. When they had both been bare, they had each other. Now, things might be different. Viktor wasn't ready for it.

There had never been anyone or anything as comforting in his life though as Yuuri, so as soon as he'd kicked his shoes off Viktor stepped into the kitchen, gathered Yuuri in his arms and pressed his face to his neck to breathe him in. Yuuri flinched in his grasp, shrieking slightly in fright, before he realised who was holding him.

'What's wrong, Vitya?' Yuuri stroked the backs of Viktor's hands softly where they were pressed against his stomach. 'Was the hairdresser not as good as you hoped?'

Viktor shook his head against Yuuri's neck and took a deep breath. No matter what happened, he wouldn't give Yuuri up for anything.

'I have a mark.' 

Yuuri's hands froze against his.

'What?'

Viktor took another deep breath, pulling the smell of Yuuri's skin deep into his chest, before he pulled back just enough to turn Yuuri in his arms.

'The hairdresser messed up, he cut too high. I have a mark.'

Yuuri's face was very pale. Viktor turned around and bent slightly so Yuuri could see. He felt Yuuri's fingers gently trace the faint lines, and heard him gasp wetly. Before he knew what he was doing he had whipped round again and had Yuuri back in his arms.

'It doesn't change anything. You're my soulmate, mark or no mark. I love you more than anything. You believe me, don't you?' Viktor didn't know what he would do if Yuuri said no. After a beat though, he felt Yuuri nod against his collarbone. 

'Can you-' Yuuri broke off, and gave a tiny sniffle. Viktor's heart hurt. 'Can you check me?'

'Of course darling,' said Viktor, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuuri's head. His hair was too thick on top to hope to see such a faint colour, but the same spot on the back of his neck should be okay. 

They sat together on the kitchen floor, Yuuri almost in Viktor's lap as Viktor carefully and gently combed his fingers through his hair, hoping he wouldn't have to cut it to see.

There, just catching the light and no more: the lines of a snowflake, dull silver in the thick black of Yuuri's hair. Viktor had him crushed in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck before either of them knew what was happening.

'Viktor?' Yuuri's voice was high with fear.

'It's there. We're marked. I knew it. Didn't you? Couldn't you tell? Of course we're soulmates.' Viktor's face was wet. Yuuri shoved at him until he let go enough for Yuuri to hug him back.

'Of course I knew. Of course. I never doubted it,' Yuuri was crying too. 'It's just nice the universe agrees.'

They laughed, crying and happy, their hands in each other's hair. 

It didn't matter, in the end, that they had a mark. They had been soulmates all their lives, they didn't need to prove that to anyone. They only had to love each other. (If Yuuri had asked, Viktor would have shaved his head in an instant to show his mark off to the world [but as Yuuri was his soulmate, he never would ask him to do that in the first place])


	5. O4 - Not a myth-take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andromeda and Perseus. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fifth chapter prompt: 'Pick a Greek myth and go!'  
> Prompted by Tess
> 
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: peril, fear of death, kidnapping (not among Victuuri), off-screen minor character death that kind of becomes on-screen death? See end notes for spoilers if you're worried.

The rough iron of the shackles bit at Yuuri’s wrists even as the sea spray chilled his skin. He stared bleakly out over the choppy waves and wondered at every frightened terrible voice that had called louder than his own. 

The sun was rising. If they hadn’t already, his family would notice he was gone soon. He wondered if it would be explained to them why he was taken. If his mother would blame herself. He hoped she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her fault. She had only been kind, reaching out to their people, offering them the food of their table to try as a change from their peasant fare. It wasn’t her fault they’d crowed so loudly about the quality of her cooking, about the fresh and new taste of pork and fine spices that the gods sought to punish them. She wasn’t to blame for what came after. 

Yuuri didn’t even have the strength to curse them; they were small and scared, and hadn’t known to hide their pride. In a way, he was grateful it was him they had chosen. If they had taken Mari, his family would not have survived. There was no malice to what they were doing to him. Merely fear. Some of them had wept as they locked him in place. Others had offered him liquor to numb the coming pain. He had turned his face away, but now faced with the inevitability of his own demise, he regretted his actions. 

Far in the distance, near the horizon, the water began to churn. 

Yuuri raised his eyes to the sky, tracking the last purple dredges of night as they fled in the face of the sun. He would face his death with dry eyes, but not before time. He would not watch his death approach him. 

Something raised itself from the water. He heard the roar of the displaced waves, the great splashing, but it was distant still. He kept his gaze averted, until the water bellowed again as something sank. 

Almost without noticing, he’d been pulling on his chains. The shackles turned bruises to cuts, blood leaving tracks in the salt on his skin. It didn’t hurt. It was too far away, too unimportant. In the grand scheme of things, what did a few cuts matter to him now? 

The wind picked up, sea spray and salt whipped up around him, obscuring his view of the sky

Yuuri wondered if whoever told the villagers that a sacrifice would bring their fish back also told them it wouldn’t work forever. That they would need to do it again, year on year, or pray that the gods forgave them. He wondered if they were ready for the blood they’d need to spill to appease wounded pride. 

A strange noise accompanied the wind, like the wings of a great swan in flight. He resisted the urge to look; couldn’t bear to see the crawling wake of the beast, and bit hard on his lip to keep his eyes dry. 

The noise grew closer; the wind grew wilder. Yuuri closed his eyes and allowed himself one moment of sheer blank-minded terror, before he stood, and turned to face his fate. The shackles rattled as he moved, loud in the sudden quiet. Even the wind had ceased. 

Before him, on the far edge of the large boulder he was tied to, was a man astride a huge winged dog. Yuuri blinked at him, once, twice, and then nodded to himself as he accepted that his mind had not recovered from the moment of terror he’d allowed himself, and had in fact broken in self-preservation. At least his hallucination was nice to look at, even if he was entirely unlike anyone Yuuri had ever seen before. His eyes were round, and bluer than he had ever seen the ocean. His hair was silver, like the sun through rain clouds, and he wore strangely woven clothing, thick and richly embroidered. 

Yuuri had been given a puppy, some five years prior. The puppy had been a gift from merchants seeking to trade through the port at the mouth of Hasetsu, just below the cliffs that supported their family castle. The puppy had been a tiny wonder of brown curls and excitement, brought from far west as an example of the wonders free trade could bring. He had remained tiny, and even as Yuuri had mourned his inability to say goodbye to his family, so too had he mourned never seeing Vicchan again. 

The winged dog the stranger sat astride looked just like him, if he was the size of a horse. And had wings. 

‘Are you alright?’ 

The stranger’s voice was deep, and rough with disuse. Yuuri considered the question, and dismissed it as ridiculous. How could he possibly be alright, chained as he was to a rock which grew more perilous with every moment as the tide drew in around it. From the look of immediate regret on the stranger’s face, he felt much the same. He coughed, and tried again. 

‘What’s your name?’ He asked, stepping down from his mount. ‘Why are you here?’

Yuuri stared at him, and decided that he’d been brave enough for the time being, and sat down again, shaking his shackles out of his way as he did. The iron chain clattered across the stone, and the stranger frowned. He walked forward and crouched in front of Yuuri, reaching for his wrists. Yuuri let him lift his hands and watched him warily as he turned them this way and that, inspecting the rubbed raw skin. 

‘My name is Viktor. I don’t mean to alarm you, but are you aware there’s a serpent circling you?’ 

Yuuri gave a rusty laugh, and raised his eyes to the sky again. 

‘Yuuri. And yes, of course I’m aware. How could I not be?’ 

Viktor tugged on his hand until Yuuri looked at him again, catching the wry smile on his face. 

‘I suppose that was another silly question, wasn’t it?’ 

Yuuri’s lips twitched in return. Not enough to be called a true smile, but closer than he thought he could have achieved. Taking pity on the strange man still holding his hands, Yuuri spoke again. 

‘The people of my village angered the gods. They sent a serpent to teach us humility in the form of a famine. I am to be sacrificed, to bring back the fish.’ 

Viktor’s countenance grew as dark as the roiling waves around them. 

‘Sacrifices never work in the long run, don’t they know that? Even if they get the fish back tomorrow at the cost of your blood, they’ll lose them just as quickly when the beast grows hungry again.’ 

Yuuri’s lips twitched again, and he indulged himself in playing with the embroidered edge of Viktor’s sleeve. 

‘They neglected to inform us of the occurrences until it was too late to stop them,’ he said, quiet and mirthless. 

‘What does that mean?’ Viktor was tugging carefully on the chain now, holding the shackle in his hand so it wouldn’t pull on Yuuri’s skin. Every now and then he glanced over his shoulder, tracking the serpent in its tightening spirals. 

‘By the time we knew there was a curse, they had already sought counsel from a charlatan. Before we could address the issue, I was taken. If they’re all very lucky, my family will have time to pacify the gods before another sacrifice is required.’ 

Viktor paused in his fussing with the shackle in favour of frowning at Yuuri again. 

‘If that beast is fed a sacrifice then pacifying the gods will do you little good. It will need feeding, again and again until it grows bored of this place.’ 

Yuuri’s answering smile was more a baring of teeth than anything else. 

The serpent’s head lifted from the waves, just behind Viktor’s mount. Yuuri turned his face away quickly, the spiralling horns already burned into his vision. Viktor caught his jaw gently in his hand, and guided his face until all Yuuri could see was him. 

‘Don’t worry, Yuuri. I won’t let you die here.’ 

He spoke with absolute certainty. Yuuri was almost tempted to believe him. 

‘That’s kind of you, but there’s little to be done. You should get on your… beast? And leave me to my fate.’ 

‘His name is Makkachin,’ said Viktor, with a proud look over his shoulder. ‘And I’m very serious Yuuri. I have faced greater foes than one serpent. I will free you.’ 

Yuuri looked at him doubtfully, letting all he felt show in his face; how tired he was of this world of gods and monsters and tricks. 

‘And in return, Viktor? What price will you ask when the beast lies dead? I can offer you nothing. I am the second son of the kingdom, I have no power or land to award you.’ 

Viktor grinned in response, cheeky and bright; the curves of his lips almost seemed to form a heart. 

‘I wasn’t lying when I said I have bested greater foes, there’s little anyone could offer me that I have not already won,’ he began, still smiling, holding Yuuri’s hands in a gentle grip. ‘But I have of late found myself lonely. I would ask nothing but your company for a while, somewhere rather more comfortable than this gloomy place.’ 

‘My company?’ Yuuri began to draw back, reluctant to trade a sure danger for a potential one, when Viktor shook his head, holding tightly to Yuuri’s hands. 

‘Just that, and your conversation’ he said, still smiling. ‘Nothing more. I am merely bored, and wish to see the land a little before I depart again. I will ask nothing of you that you wouldn’t give freely.’

Yuuri chewed on his lip, carefully keeping his eyes fixed on Viktor’s face, and not risking a glance back to where Makkachin had started to growl. What was the harm? If he failed, Yuuri was no worse off than he had been before Viktor showed up. If he succeeded? Then Yuuri had his life, and his time was no sacrifice at all. 

'Alright. You have my word. Save me, and I'll give you my company, such as it is.'

Viktor's grin grew brighter.

'Wonderful!' Viktor set Yuuri's hands gently down in his lap and hopped back to his feet. 'This won't take long, just wait right there. Close your eyes when I tell you to, and don't open them until I say it's safe, alright?'

Yuuri looked at him with all the bemusement he could muster and nodded dryly at Viktor's instructions. Viktor winked at him, before he crossed to Makkachin and began to fuss with something in a saddlebag draped over his hindquarters. 

Behind him, the waves frothed ever higher. Yuuri ignored them as best he could, and was grateful when Viktor began to speak again. 

'You're rather lucky you know,' said Viktor idly as he pulled something unusually large from his saddlebag. 'The creature I faced before I found my way here will be no end of help in dispatching this particular serpent.'

'Lucky indeed,' said Yuuri, drier than the air around them could ever hope to be. Viktor winked at him again, and glanced over Makkachin, taking a second to track the serpent. His eyes were sharp, his mien serious. He glanced away though after a moment, clearly dismissing the distance as not yet perilous.

'The creature was once a man you see,’ explained Viktor, ‘but he was terribly jealous. He couldn't stand the thought of any other man so much as even looking at his sister, so he petitioned the gods for the power to strike any who dared blind,' as he spoke, Viktor unwrapped layers of cloth from the bundle in his arms, like some perverse gift. 'The gods granted his request, after a fashion.' 

Cradled in Viktor's hands was a severed head. Where hair would normally be, tiny snakes twisted and turned. A blindfold was wrapped tightly around the head's eyes. 

'Anyone he turned his gaze upon turned to stone, his sister included. It sent him quite mad. It was a mercy, in the end. But his power didn't die with him unfortunately. My plan was originally to drop him in the middle of the ocean, somewhere he can do no more harm, but he may be of some use to us now.'

Yuuri looked at the poor wretch in Viktor's hands. He felt pity, yes, but also a curious disgust. All that destruction wrought from jealousy. How shameful.

Viktor held the head in one hand and grasped Makkachin's reins with the other. He led him to Yuuri, and patted his flank until the great dog sat down beside him and sheltered him with one great wing. He handed Yuuri two strips of cloth. 

'It's safer for all of us if it's not possible for you to open your eyes at all. One glimpse of poor Michele's eyes here and there's nothing more I could do for you. Do me a kindness please Yuuri, and cover Makkachin's eyes too. I'll be all the stronger in battle if I know you two are safe.' 

Viktor's eyes were soft but serious, and Yuuri nodded silently, reaching up with shaking hands to cover Makkachin's eyes with the cloth. The other he kept in his hands until Viktor was ready on the far side of the boulder, his sword drawn in one hand, Michele's head swinging from the other. His fingers were half twisted in the snakes, half in the knot of his blindfold. One motion of his hand and it would fall. 

'Are you ready, Yuuri? It's almost time.'

Yuuri lifted his hands to his face and tied the blindfold as firmly as he could, knotting it tightly behind his head and closing his eyes beneath it for good measure.

'I'm ready.'

Viktor didn't answer again, but instead gave a strange and piercing whistle. A great roar answered him, unlike anything Yuuri had ever heard before. He thought back on his plan to meet his death with dry and open eyes, and was grateful for his blindfold. 

He could hear movement, the rasp of Viktor's boots upon the stone; the clang of his sword striking scales, the snarls of the serpent. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, and buried his face in Makkachin's fur. He knew better than to pray to the gods, but he wished with everything in him that Viktor would triumph.

Something large struck the boulder, and for a heartbeat Yuuri feared the worst, before the serpent gave an angry bellow, and Viktor a low laugh, several feet from where Yuuri had last known him to be. 

'Eyes closed Yuuri?' Viktor called, almost lost beneath the howls of the serpent.

'Yes! Be safe, Viktor!' Yuuri cried in return, raising his head only enough to be heard.

'It's time then.' Viktor's voice was quiet now, but it carried on the breeze. Yuuri raised his hand carefully until he found Makkachin's jaw, and scratched beneath it until he lowered his head and followed Yuuri’s hand. As safe as Yuuri could make them, they waited.

There was a distant thud of something soft but heavy striking the stone. The serpent gave a great and terrible bellow—

And then there was silence. The roar of the serpent stopped as though it had never started in the first place. A moment passed, and then another. Yuuri clutched at Makkachin, and strained his hearing for the slightest sound.

'It's safe now Yuuri, you can take your blindfold off.' 

Yuuri flinched at the sound of Viktor’s voice, sitting up immediately and pulling the blindfold from his eyes. The dim sunlight seared his eyes for a moment, and when they cleared the first thing he saw was Viktor, grinning brightly at him from across the way, already wrapping Michele’s head in layers of cloth again. He looked barely touched by the battle, merely slightly more dishevelled than he had been moments before. Satisfied of his safety, Yuuri glanced beyond him for any sign of the monster.

Clinging to the boulder like a great statue was the serpent’s frozen form. A great beast of spiral horns, multitudinous teeth and eyes and more claws than any creature truly needed, Yuuri felt a scream well up in his throat at the very sight of it. Before he could release it however, Viktor’s face filled his gaze again. Yuuri looked at him desperately, reaching up to clutch at his hands in fright.

‘It’s alright Yuuri, it’s dead. It can’t hurt you,’ Viktor soothed, stroking his hair back from his face even as he clutched back at Yuuri’s hand. ‘It’s fine, we’ll get these shackles off you and get you back home in an instant, you don’t have to see it again, just look at me, alright? Don’t look.’

Yuuri nodded, trembling. Viktor smiled sweetly at him, and stepped away, drawing his sword as he did. 

‘Now, don’t you move Yuuri. I’ll cut your chains and we’ll get a smith in town to remove the shackles, alright? Stay very still.’ Viktor kicked the chains straight as he spoke, and after peering at Yuuri as though making sure he had no imminent plan to thrust some limb in the path of his sword, he gave a great and decisive swing of his blade. The iron chain split beneath it with a great cacophony of sound and sparks, but split it did. 

Viktor helped Yuuri stand as soon as he sheathed his sword. Yuuri shook his arms out gratefully. The length of chain still attached to either wrist was weighty, but much less so than the full binding had been. As he stretched his arms and wrists, Viktor removed the blindfold from Makkachin, dropping kisses and praise on his head as he coaxed the dog to stand again. 

‘Keep your eyes on Makkachin now Yuuri, and we’ll be away from here before you know it,’ said Viktor gently, when he noticed Yuuri’s eyes beginning to creep back towards the towering figure of the serpent. Yuuri nodded, and gave a small squeak when Viktor picked him up by the waist, helping him onto the front of Makkachin’s saddle. Without a moment’s pause, Viktor swung himself up behind him, and settled in with his arms wrapped firmly around his waist, Makkachin’s reins held loosely in his grip.

The sky ahead of them was clearer than the sky behind. The grey clouds fading to the same vivid blue as Viktor’s eyes as Makkachin’s powerful wings carried them towards home. 

‘Viktor?’ called Yuuri, over his shoulder and against the heavy wind.

‘Yes?’ Viktor tucked his face close to Yuuri’s ear so they could hear each other better. Yuuri could feel his warm breath on his neck, the weight of his jaw upon his shoulder. 

‘How long did you intend to spend in my company?’ he asked, turning his head slightly to catch Viktor’s eye. The sunlight was brilliant around them.

Viktor smiled at him, slow and sweet. 

‘As long as you’ll have me,’ he said, still smiling. 

‘And if I said forever?’ asked Yuuri, leaning closer still. Viktor’s smile widened. 

‘Then I would spend forever with you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mickey takes the form of Medusa here, so Viktor's cutting about with his severed head. Sara is the other off-screen death, as unfortunately Mickey looked at her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always adored :D 
> 
> Want to get involved? Check out my [twitter](https://twitter.com/raedear_writes/status/1287346806947483649) and pick the prompt you want to see next.


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